Obama has 99 Problems but Mitt Ain't One

Dear Mrs. Romney...I know You Aint Talking To Me...

Dear Mrs. Romney,

 

 I work very hard in my daily life to assume the best about people. So the only thing I am going to assume about you is that you are probably a pretty nice person with a good heart. I like to make this global assumption without the taint of the opinions of others. And I would appreciate it if you would stop assuming things about me. I am not a part of the amorphous American female collective you spoke of last night. In fact, I take great offense to being lumped together with the female stereotype you presented. I am not the woman you described, nor are any of my female friends. I am much, much more.Allow me to introduce myself. I am a member of the middle class, but I haven’t always been. I have been teaching middle school since I graduated from college. My first job paid $1300 a month. For seven years I supplemented my income by working evenings and weekends at a movie theater and a retail store. This was to pay my rent and my car payment and buy a few groceries. After seventeen years as a teacher, I have earned a Master’s degree, an Education Specialist degree and an administrative license. I am happily married with two elementary-age kids. My husband and I are both educators, and there is still no money left at the end of the month. We continue to live paycheck to paycheck.That’s what two teachers with two kids do.

We don’t have a housekeeper or a nanny. We don’t have personal assistants. All our limited disposable funds go towards riding and violin lessons, karate class, field trips, and school clothes for the kids. If we need new clothes, we wait for clearance sales and shop at discount stores. If one of the kids wants to add an enrichment activity to their schedule, we juggle our finances to decide what we can give up.

We have debt and student loans that impede our financial progress, both of which have accrued over the years as we have tried to live pretty average everyday lives. When it’s time for our kids to go to college, let’s hope they qualify for scholarships; “shopping around” for a more affordable option would mean no higher education for our kids. Period.

Disposable income for this middle class family is a joke.

But I digress. I am a woman, and you don’t know the first thing about me. When you suggest that it’s a “woman’s lot” to work all day then come home and cater to her husband and kids, and that you hear my voice, my blood boils.

You may hear my voice and “love you women,” but you are certainly not listening.

Your life does not resemble mine in any way. Yes, you have five children and a debilitating illness. But you also have the monetary resources to finance support systems. I believe wholeheartedly that being a stay-at-home mom is a full-time job, but you have no idea what it is like to be that parent and work a second, or even a third job at the same time to make ends meet.

So please refrain from claiming allegiance with me, from suggesting that you are an example of “every woman.” That claim is a lie.

Have you ever bounced a check because you had to put gas in your car?

Have you ever been forced to calculate the cost of your groceries as you shop to be sure you’re not over-budget?

Have you ever told one of your children that they can have new shoes that fit…after payday?

Welcome to the reality of this woman.

And I am incredibly lucky.

I have a job, as does my extremely supportive husband. We have two sets of grandparents a stone’s throw away who take care of our kids when they’re sick or they have days off of school so we don’t have to miss work. We have a roof over our heads, food to eat, and we have each other.

I can’t imagine surviving under alternate conditions. What about the single woman who spends fully half of her paycheck on childcare? What about the woman who is struck with Cancer but ignores her medical needs in order to put food on the table for her family? What about the woman who forfeited higher education to raise a child and now has no skills to find a job? What about the woman who lives in a shelter with her children in order to escape an abusive partner or as a result of an eviction?

Shopping at Costco does not level this playing field.

So I take exception to your statement that all women share the same lot in life.

If you want to make this claim, if you want to try to convince me that we are more similar than different, you’re going to have to spend a week or so walking in my $15 Payless clearance shoes.

You are not every woman. You are an incredibly privileged, elite, distorted version of American womanhood, and you have no idea how the other 99% live.

As your husband and his party try to control my body, my choices, my well-being, please remember that you and your party will never speak for me.

How dare you even try.

- Cathy Walker-Gilman

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Is Everyone But Harry Belafonte Riding Jay-Z's Dick?

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

Yes I said it. And I no I cannot wait until I have the privilege of being 85 years old like Mr. Harry Belafonte to say what needs to be said.

In a recent interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Mr. Belafonte was asked if he was happy with today's Hollywood images of minorities. Mr. Belafonte replied, "Not at all...It is all --excuse my French--shit."

He goes on to use Jay-Z and Beyonce as an example of turning their backs on social responsibility. It's hard to ignore this point and so I'm in conversation about it.

So why aren't more of today's young Black rich celebrities socially active? One could also ask, should more Black elders be holding them responsible?

Regardless of how you analyze this question, what's worth noting is that something happened between the Civil Rights Movement and the Hip Hop Generation.

My mom recalls when drugs were deliberately put into the Black communities to break up the power behind unifying the community. All that hard work and blood shed, which once had a clear community purpose lost its road map. So even though we won the
right to sit in the front of the bus, it didn't stop some of us from acting like a fool on that
bus.

I can only imagine Jay-Z's reality from his songs and lyrics, framing for us what it took
for him to get to where he is. Pulling himself up by his own boot straps after he had to
make the boot, steal the materials for the boot and lets not forget, get shot at for the
boot. It's not so unreal that a rich rapper's financial values would be more in line with a
conservative Republican. I got mine, you betta get yours.

Even though our community is suffering from poverty, mass incarceration, and unequal
educational systems, unlike Mr. Belafonte, for Jay-Z, the term "community" may just be
a definition in the dictionary. Yes, Jay-Z has the Shawn Carter foundation that has made
charitable contributions. However, KultureKritic interestingly breaks down that the $1.3
million dollars given away through 750 Scholarships estimates to be about $1,733 per
child. Not only can that barely get anyone though a semester of college it can't even
buy one of those kids a Louis Vitton bag. Is the foundation more of a public relationship
obligation and tax write off rather than an actual social responsibility.

Although I don't have the answer, I'm sure as hell glad that Mr. Belafonte isn't more
concerned with chilling in the champagne room with Jay-Z than he is with calling him
out and asking some real questions. I sure hope Jay-Z isn't at home working an a Belafonte
retaliation track...cause this beef is way more serious than that sh*t that went down with
Nas.

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Adidas Sneaker Controversy on Huffington Post (the extended version)

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor &  Editor-in-chief, HaJ

I was invited to participate in Huffington Post's live video chat hosted by Marc Lamont Hill discussing the Adidas "slave sneaker" controversy. You can watch by clicking on the link. However, my written commentary may better reflect the points I was hoping to make.

• Initial Reaction to the Sneaker - When you look at this what are your thoughts?

1. I almost drowned in tears of laughter. Did someone really say let's make a "slave sneaker?" Where the hell were the Black executives at Adidas during the proof of concept meeting? Please don't tell me they got the -itis and missed the meeting after indulging in the Burger King crispy chicken wrap. Wait a minute, has this slave sneaker revealed a bigger issue --- that Adidas has nobody on staff who is a descendent of a slave to say, "Hey guys, too soon?"

• What Does It Mean to Have Shackles On Sneakers Targeted To The Urban Community

2. Wait, what are we defining as "targeted? I've heard two different narratives for the concept behind this design. 1) "This sneaker is so hot it must be chained to your ankle." 2) The designer feels like a slave to the fashion industry." Regardless both ideas deserve a good lynching. 

On the other hand, there is great irony that the "urban community" would have such a visceral reaction to a sneaker. Why is that? Because "we" are slaves to our sneakers. How many times have we heard a story about someone getting shot (or at least Tasered because someone's sneaker's got stepped on. Hell, I've almost shot someone myself (with a water gun of course).  Now that's commentary I could have gotten behind the designer on.  In fact, the slave sneaker should have been a crispy white pair of Jordan’s with a foot a print on the toe and spots of blood representing the fallen homies.

• Is This Racial Insensitivity?

3. You have to be sensitive to be insensitive.  We as Black people are programmed to be confrontational about race because our history includes fighting for basic human rights because of our race. White people have the luxury of coming up with designs like slave shackles without it having any kind of stigmatization on their identity. Wait, am I being racist assuming the slave sneaker designer is white? Regardless, my people...Black people crave that kind of freedom...but wait, a lot of us would then be out of work (including myself). What would there be to complain about? Never mind. Racism may be doing more for the economy than government.

• Should We Just Let It Go? - (Do we see race in everything?)

4. Let it go? Let it go? Hell no!!! (That is until the next racially charged news line) Of course we see race in everything. Our freedom was built on it. However, I sometimes think it's us perpetuating racism. We've become a reactionary culture instead of a proactive one. We for some reason continue to seek white's people's approval (even subconsciously). We complain there are not enough of us in this or that instead of building our own systems that work for us. Imagine if we spent less energy complaining and more creating. Did I get too deep?

• Does Intention Even Matter? 

5. Only to the person who had the intention. For everyone else perspective is reality. Does it matter if the designer was using this monster image as inspiration? How many Black people would believe him even if he pinky swore? People only care about how they're affected and maybe as long as they do we might not ever be able to have a progressive conversation.

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#Dear White People...

Light continues to shine on the "Black" experience in America. It seems like every time I look up there is new satire on Black people responding to living in a "white world." The trailer for a new film currently looking to raise money for production called, Dear White People was released on YouTube only a couple of days ago and has gone viral. The film appears to explore the same ol' issues that Black people have been complaining about for years, hair touching, that one Black friend and white people's craving to use the "N" word. However, Dear White People not only satirically integrates the current day chatter of the Black community down to "Tell Lucas I want my $15 back for Red Tails!" but appears to be very cinematic, which commands a different kind of attention from the videos about race on the web.

I wonder what white people have to say about all this circulated Black commentary. Maybe it's time for a two-way conversation? And I don't mean the reactionary mean spirited, racist and ignorant remarks found in the comment section on YouTube. Real talk what are we all looking to ultimately achieve?



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It’s Not Like White People Don’t Know Black People Eat Chicken: The #MaryJBlige Controversy

by Funnel Cake Flowers, The Urban Chameleon news reporter

If we never saw another Black person associated with chicken would racism go away? Would we get our 40 acres and a mule? Or would there be something else to bitch about?

When news broke that Mary J. Blige participated in perpetuating one of the oldest stereotypes in the book by endorsing Burger King’s new crispy fried chicken in a wrap, or something like that, I couldn’t help but to chuckle right before letting out a long ass sigh. To quote the article “Mary J. Blige soulfully sings about chicken,” as if we needed a description of how Mary J. Blige saaaangs or that it would have made a difference if the chicken song were performed in Classic Rock. Regardless, I wasn’t sure if I should be blaming Mary for not knowing better or the Black community for bringing attention to this older than dirt matter.

I sometimes wonder if raising awareness about “Black people chicken singing” does the opposite of what we intend, provide a different reason to be stereotyped. Isn’t saying, “Don’t associate chicken with Black people” just as bad as “All Black people eat chicken?” (However, I do hate that Mary is looking at the only sista in the Burger King trying to make a connection like, "Gurrrrl, I know you about to get some chicken). I digress.

Have we lost sight of what we’re fighting for? Or are Black people just prone to become defensive when it comes to chicken?

The original stereotype dates back to when exaggerated depictions of Blacks (blackface minstrelsy) were used as mascots to sell fried chicken (I refuse to include a photo). Mary J. Blige is a rich successful recording artist, recognized internationally, and I doubt that she needs whatever Burger King was paying, although I’m sure it didn't hurt. (Maybe she did it for the free chicken because uhhhh...she actually likes chicken). Regardless, did we ever consider the fact that Mary J. Blige felt like she could comfortably do a commercial about fried chicken might just be the progress we were once looking for? Maybe I’m being too optimistic in my thinking, but I bet in a 2.0 version of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s “I have a Dream” speech, there might just be a line about little Black boys and little Black girls being able to talk about their chicken eating lovin' without shame.

Don’t get me wrong, there have been plenty of negligent moments portrayed in media that need calling out. For Example, I think Bravo and VH1 do more harm to the images of women and minority groups than Mary J Blige singing about chicken, but for some reason Black people never seem to profoundly rally around this. Are we on autopilot; Chicken=problem? If we keep making something a problem when do we ever realize when the problem is no longer a problem? Maybe we should put more focus on having people of color endorse things like granola or yogurt. I know one thing is for sure, it's complicated. I'm Funnel Cake Flowers your Urban Chameleon news reporter.

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Trayvon Martin and the fatal history of American racism

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor Kevin Powell via The Guardian

I am Trayvon Martin.

So are you. And so is any human being who has ever felt cornered, in a dark and desolate alley, between life and death. Add the grim reality of skin color in America, and you have the disastrous spectacle of 250lb George Zimmerman, 28, pursuing 140lb Trayvon, 17, until that man-child is screaming "Help!" – and then gasping for air after a bullet from Zimmerman's 9mm handgun had punctured his chest. A majority-white, gated community became, on 26 February, the makeshift mortuary for a black boy who will not get a chance to live, to go to college with his exceptional high school grades, to make something of his life. Trayvon's fatal act: a mundane walk to the nearby convenience store to buy a can of iced tea and a bag of Skittles.

This is what racism, the American version of it, means to black boys like Trayvon, to black men like me. That we often don't stand a chance when it has been determined, oftentimes by a single individual acting as judge and jury, that we are criminals to be pursued, confronted, tackled, and, yes, subdued. To be shocked and awed into submission.

The police authorities in Sanford, Florida, where the shooting occurred, are apparently so mired in racial prejudice and denial that George Zimmerman, at this writing, still has not been arrested nearly a month after Trayvon was killed – in spite of Zimmerman being told, on 911 police dispatch audio, not to follow Trayvon Martin.

In spite of Zimmerman being charged in 2005 with resisting arrest with violence and battery on a police officer...

continue reading on The Guardian

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RIP Whitney Houston

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor Kevin Powell via The Guardian

Slow suicide is the term I've used for years to describe those individuals who are incredibly unhappy in their own lives, in their own skin, and do things to destroy that life, to destroy that skin. Whatever the race or culture of that person is immaterial; it doesn't matter if they are famous and wealthy, or unknown and poor. What matters is the source of their pain, and the ways they've chosen to deal with that pain. Or not.

I have often wondered if Whitney Houston was ever happy – as a world-class singer, as a daughter, as a wife, as a mother. She is gone now, her death a sad and jolting concluding scene to a long-running drama that we witnessed – at times, with tremendous pride and at times, with alarming discomfort – because she was by far the most gifted and the most visible singer of her generation, of the past 25 years. And because she battled various forms of drug addiction on an Olympian stage, and was in a wild and notoriously dysfunctional and abusive marriage with R&B singer Bobby Brown for 15 years.

My heart aches for Whitney Houston, even if many of us, through the years, could see such a moment coming. There was too much photographic evidence of her fluctuating weight, of her caramel-brown face drenched in sweat when not performing. But when you die in a Beverly Hills hotel room, at age 48, alone, on the eve of the Grammy Awards, discovered by your bodyguard, after 170m records sold, too-many-to-count Grammy, Billboard, and Emmy awards, and the biggest US single of all time ("I Will Always Love You"), we have to wonder, if we are sincere with ourselves: did we collectively participate in the slow and catastrophic plunge of Whitney Houston?

For sure, the social media networks are abuzz with genuine tributes to her, from celebrities, from those who actually knew her, from profoundly heart-broken fans. But I also think about how Whitney Houston had declined from American musical royalty to the oft-ridiculed and washed-up singer and drug fiend. There were interventions by her mother, the gospel singer Cissy Houston, and others. But there were also shameful, high-voltage spotlights, like her awkward interview with Diane Sawyer where she declared, when asked about her alleged drug use, "crack is wack." We also cannot forget Bobby Brown's car crash of a TV show, "Being Bobby Brown", which felt like we were watching a buffoonish caricature of love and marriage.

Yet, we absorbed these moments anyhow, because in this age of reality television, celebrity confessionals, YouTube and TMZ, the tribulations of mega-stars like Whitney Houston not only provide raw amusement for us, but allow us to mask in cowardly fashion our own sins and failings while mocking these clearly flawed human beings. That, indeed, is the great conundrum of the entertainment industry. On the one hand, it affords opportunities to be whatever we want to be, and more. On the flip side, the industry is a space where far too many individuals never fully grow up or evolve, never fully find out who they really are beneath the hype and hysteria.

For example, Houston was dogged for years by rumors of lesbianism because of her extremely close relationship with then-best friend Robyn Crawford (after Houston's marriage to Brown, Crawford mysteriously faded from view, and I do wonder what she has to say about Whitney's death), and even of an alleged affair with Tom Cruise's "Top Gun" co-star Kelly McGillis. Who knows what is legit and what is fairy tale, but what if part of Houston's drug dependency and acting out had to do with her living a make-believe existence crafted by others, simply to protect her image and superstardom? What if some of those nearest to her participated in a kind of collusion because they knew that homophobia in America would derail their breadwinner named Whitney Houston? Or because they were homophobic themselves?

Continue reading on The Guardian



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Urban Marketing: The Distinction Between "Good Black Folks" vs. The Other Kind

by today’s Urban Chameleon contributor

A few weeks into my gig at a famous vodka company that shall remain nameless, I was finally beginning to learn the language. I had learned that it was good to use the words "luxury," "authenticity," and "aspirational," especially when describing your own work. It was bad to use the words "Jello shot," "cheap," and "drunk." You weren’t drunk from doing too many cheap Jello shots, you were savoring the value-priced edible cocktails.

Whenever the topic of “urban” marketing came up, everyone seemed suddenly uncomfortable. Voices shifted upwards in pitch and speech became more deliberate. I had no idea why everyone was so nervous about selling vodka in cities.

One day, in a Power Point presentation, it all became clear. With our “urban marketing approach,” we were still supposed to “align ourselves with luxury brands” to make our famous vodka seem more expensive and exclusive. Therefore putting the bottle next to a $5,000 strand of Mikimoto earrings would create that illusion despite the fact that our vodka was available at any liquor store for $35.

The next slide showed a Blair Underwood lookalike in an expensive suit, drinking a martini in his loft apartment. Again I could hear in my boss’s voice that same tentative, apologetic quality that came up whenever we discussed “the urban market.” The kind of voice people use to talk about something unpleasant that you’d rather not bring up, like gay bashing or slavery.

“Let’s make this very clear,” he said. “We market to the elite urban consumer, not just any urban consumer.”

Everyone nodded in approval. The next slide showed several light-skinned Black women in a restaurant, drinking cosmos over brunch.

Holy shit! Urban meant Black! Or people of color anyway; one of the women on the brunch slide looked kind of Dominican. I was in a room of all white people, and my boss was saying that we didn’t want just any Black people to drink our vodka. It had to be the right kind of Black people. The kind that seemed not to be a threat.

The next slide showed P Diddy in front of a Ciroc step and repeat.

“Just look at Puff Daddy and Ciroc,” said my boss. “That is so unluxury.”

A murmur of derision went around the room as my colleagues expressed their disdain towards Diddy.

As a white woman, I was more than uncomfortable with this setting. It was a world I tried my hardest to be a chameleon but eventually became exhausted by the limited exposure these people had the nerve to be marketing to in addition to my mandatory weekly hair and makeup appointments trying to get me to fit in. I finally quit after a consultation with their stylist who said to me, “I see you wear big earrings, they bring attention up here.” She waved her hand around my face, insinuating there was something wrong with it. Continuing she said, “But what I’d like you to do is start wearing larger necklaces to bring the focus to your best feature.” She then gestured to my bosom.

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#Redtails and the Big Guilt Trip Scam

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

I am so sick and tired of going to see a Black film out of charity. Every time a Black film is released the word “support” is not far behind, and George Lucas’s latest project featuring an all Black cast, Red Tails is no exception. Black people everywhere were dumb founded that Mr. Star Wars himself could not get Hollywood on board to make his $(93) ninety-three million dollar film; a story about the Tuskegee Airmen. Thus the campaign tagline for Red Tails was solidified, “Support This Black Film!”

The media roll out plan was perfect; as the exposed plight of Lucas’ fired people up to get their “activism” on by posting articles, Facebook Status Updates and Tweets reiterating the importance of “supporting” this Black film. The results lead to a successful $(20) twenty-million dollar opening weekend. It almost felt like there was more patriotism displayed for Lucas than there was for Troy Davis. Regardless, we did it! We showed Hollywood, and therefore can expect more films about the Black experience coming soon to a theater near you. Right? Wrong!

Do you know how many Black films have done “surprisingly” well over the last twenty years at less than a fraction of the cost of Red Tails? Are we not still having the same damn conversations about Hollywood not making Black films? Let alone ones that are diverse? (See article: All We Do is Eat, Fight, F*ck, Dance and Pray.) Is Hollywood all of a sudden going to start churning out $(100) one-hundred million dollar Black pictures?

I don’t think so.

Spike Lee can’t even get 40 acres and a mule. Hate to burst the bubble, but Hollywood is predominately ran by white men who don’t understand Black people; even though they swear they do. In pitch meetings, Hollywood executives are quick to state why a Black film won’t do well (welcome to the pity party Lucas) and include statistics about the ones that have failed. Even though these statistics are smaller than a pubic hair compared to the number of white films that fail year after year. The reality is, “Black” cannot possibly represent a universal experience and Hollywood won’t invest. Instead of continuing to knock on the same door that doesn't want to let you in, build a new house. With all the technology at our finger tips why not start investing in new distribution models and tell Hollywood to kiss your Black ass!

So why did I end up seeing Red Tails if it wasn’t to send a message to Hollywood? One word, GUILT.  All the Facebook updates had me feeling like I was a sell out, Anti-Black, if I didn’t see it opening weekend and support an important story about Black History. There was just one problem...Red Tails has no story, at least not the one that their PR team is pimping. I walked away with no real understanding of who the Tuskegee Airmen were and what made them exceptional. It’s not enough to show scenes where a white man either calls or treats the Black man like a nigger to validate storytelling. In fact, there was more of an emphasis on the Tuskegee Airmen blowing up the enemy than there was on a fight for equality.

At the end of the day, I knew from the moment I first saw the trailer that this wasn’t a film I wanted to see. Regardless if you agree or not, shouldn't I have that freedom of choice?

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"Sh*t White Girls Say to Black Girls" Rocks the Boat!

by Funnel Cake Flowers the Urban Chameleon news reporter

Sh*t White Girls Say to Black Girls is one of the latest videos to take the Internet by storm, having been viewed by over 4 million in less than a week. The creator, Franchesca Ramsey, a young, dark skin, Black woman with locs throws on a blond wig and goes IN, reenacting remarks made by “white girls”. At first I was bewildered by the sensation of this video.

This isn’t news. Is it? My friends of color and I were used to these same ignorant or shall I say ign’t comments made about our race (including African America, Asian, Latino, Indian, etc)…from another race. But then I realized that our kitchen table conversations are rarely up for discussion on a platform with global reach, so this was news for many. Despite the familiarity of the subject, most of my Black girl friends find the video hysterical... truth that resonates tends to do that. Meanwhile, a lot of non-Black girls aren’t laughing. (Not all, as some have openly admitted that they act like the girl in the video) but one person even went off on a rant after being insulted by the line about Jews. (Now ya know you cannot talk about Jews!)

Oftentimes things go viral but the message gets missed. If you’ve read Franchesca Ramsey’s interview in the Huffington Post it reveals that the video is based on TRUTH! Come on people (who were insulted), ya kinda can't deny someone's truth no matter how insulted you are and quite frankly this is a truth that needs addressing. Unfortunately, if you’re not familiar with how many of us “Black girls” REALLY CAN RELATE to Shit White Girls Say to Black Girls in our own interracial relationships you think the actor, Franchesca Ramsey is the one that started this fight.

If anything, Shit White Girls Say to Black Girls is a testament to the lack of perspective with in the media regarding people of color. Both parties maybe to blame for this. White friends of mine have told me that white people don’t like talking about race and especially NOT slavery. And lawd knows Black people are conscious of what white people think so don't always say what they really want to say. But if we don’t start talking  about it we’re only continuing this cycle of everyone either being misunderstood or insulted. So what now?

Regardless of your race, if someone says some ignorant sh*t, CALL THEM OUT (without getting physical or stank...cause that's just ign't.) As Urban Chameleons we sometimes tend to fear the consequences and chameleon into silence. But part of being an Urban Chameleon is helping someone else to become one…by exposing them to your truth so that the next time they encounter someone like you they won't say some ignorant shit and real conversation can begin.

Have a story you want to me to report? E-mail me at funnelcakeflowers@tickles.tv

Creator of Shit White Girls Say to Black Girls on Anderson Cooper